


Quiet, My Still Beating Heart

by Innocentfighter



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics)
Genre: Adopted Children, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is Trying, Canon-Typical Violence, Career Ending Injuries, Deaf Character, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explosions, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Alive, Jason Todd is Robin, Jason-Centric, Major Character Injury, Medical Inaccuracies, Mild Language, Panic Attacks, Protective Bruce Wayne, Protective Dick Grayson, Sign Language, loss of hearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-04 23:12:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16798939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Innocentfighter/pseuds/Innocentfighter
Summary: He breathes out a sob. Or he thinks he does, it is too hard to make out sound with the ringing in his ears. Jason coughs and tears streams down his face from the pain.





	Quiet, My Still Beating Heart

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S DECEMBER! So I'm not that excited, but I promised I would write 25 stories for the holidays and it is officially Day 1!  
> Unrelated, I super love this story. I don't know if I did that idea as much justice as I would like, but overall it's a good way to kick off my ficmas.  
> Uh, also this is a really different writing style choice for me and I sort of love-hate it.

Jason does not understand how he was alive. He wishes he was dead. There is a burning in his chest, a numbing feeling from his leg, and a ringing in his ears. Something heavy is holding him down. The full weight isn’t on him, he is sure he’d be dead if that was the case.

_God._ Everything _Hurt._ Jason didn’t think it was possible to hurt this much. Where the hell is Bruce? The memories are hazy. His world is this five-by-five cave, and he only wants his dad.

He breathes out a sob. Or he thinks he does it is too hard to make out any sound with the ringing in his ears. Jason coughs and tears streams down his face from the pain. Instinctively he tries to curl into himself but whimpers when he feels a lance of pain shoots up to his hip. Joker mostly left his legs alone, which meant the damage was from the blast.

_Shit._ He couldn’t even die correctly. A pain grows in his chest until he could not take in air. Jason gasps, trying to draw in air. _Collapsed lung._ Joker’s voice taunts him.

Fuck. He can’t breathe. Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. The wall on top of him shifts. _Oh, God._ He doesn’t want to die.

Jason struggles. All his training leaves his head. He doesn’t want to be crushed. Just as sudden as the fight found him, it rushes out with another tidal wave of pain. Fighting isn’t worth the pain. Instead, he curls up and closes his eyes and waits for the wall to fall on him. The ringing in his ears grows to an almost painful level before abruptly cutting out.

There is silence.

There is also light.

Jason opens his eyes marginally. He squints. A cowl… and a bat-symbol. _Oh, thank fuck._

He passes out.

* * *

Jason wakes quickly, he always does. There is no noise, so he opens his eyes just enough to make out where he’s at. He sees a roughhewn ceiling held up by modern steel beams. Glass panels give him an unimpeded view of the Bat-cave.

So. Batman _had_ saved him. That is… something. Relief that Bruce cared? Anger that he was almost too late? Disappointment he survived?

Jason ignores that last one. Instead, he tilts his head to look at his vitals, the heart monitor jumps with the movement but there is no sound to accompany it. Was it muted? It registers his heart rate climbing, and Jason narrows his eyes.

The motion of the door opening draws his attention away. It is Bruce (who else would it be? Why was he surprised?) Judging by the suit, he has just come back from patrol. There is a thin trail of blood from under his nose. Jason raises an eyebrow. Bruce stops.

Bruce speaks.

Jason doesn’t hear him.

Everything clicks. The ringing and then the not ringing. The muted heart monitor. Not hearing Bruce. He survived an explosion at close range. Of course he was-

A heavy hand drops onto his shoulder. Bruce demands his attention in that gesture. He doesn’t need sound to know Bruce is saying his name. Jason frowns and shakes his head. That probably answers at least one question Bruce has.

It stops Bruce mid-sentence. Slowly, hesitantly, cautiously, Bruce raises a hand to gesture towards his ears. The question is clear, and Jason shakes his head in answer. Bruce moves quickly towards the other side of the room, Jason ignores the sting of abandonment and returns just as quickly with paper. As if he expected this.

He probably did.

Bruce’s handwriting is awful, but after a few seconds Jason could make out the scrawl, **anything?**

“Nothing,” Jason answers and decides he didn’t like feeling himself speak instead of hearing his voice.

The face Bruce makes is odd, Jason couldn’t decipher the emotions behind it before he is reading the legal pad again.

**How are you feeling?**

Jason shrugs, “not hurting.”

It is an improvement from the last time he was conscious. He must be on the good painkillers, the type that doesn’t make you drowsy or loopy. Although, he’d like to know how royally fucked up his body is.

“How bad?” He asks.

Bruce doesn’t grimace, which translates to it not being as terrible as having bane-break-his-back, but the lack of facial response means its not as good as a sprain-from-landing-awkwardly. He turns the legal pad and Jason has to wait several minutes for Bruce to write his injuries. He’s hesitant in the pen strokes, which means that he’s unhappy about them.

To be fair, Jason isn’t exactly thrilled he got blown up.

**2 nd to 3rd-degree burns. Broken + Cracked ribs. Smoke inhalation. Collapsed lung. Broken leg. Broken arm. Concussion. Hearing loss.**

The last one was kind of obvious. Jason snorts to himself. He thought that it might be worse, he’s had most of those injuries before, just not at one time. It’ll be a long recovery time, and Jason really wonders if it’d be worth trying to get up to his previous level of fitness. It isn’t like Bruce will ever let him out on the field again.

Jason blinks at the legal pad is shoved in his face again.

**We’ll get through this. I’m so happy you’re alive.**

His eyes burn at the second sentence, and then his eyes skip down a few lines.

**Dick is on his way back from his mission.**

Jason sends a glare with little anger behind it. He’s sleepy again, not that he’s surprised. Dick is probably going to either be ridiculously distant or ridiculously clingy or a bizarre mixture of the two. For once he can’t bring himself to dread the arrival of his big brother and slips off to sleep.

* * *

When he wakes up the next time they have moved him from the bat-cave, which he supposes is a good thing. It means he’s not about to die. It also means he will not see much of Bruce until he’s mobile. For once Jason can’t bring himself to regret that idea. There’s a lot of he has to cope with on his own before he can be civil with other people.

Although, he wants to know who let Dick into his room and why Dick thought he had any permission to be that close. Jason wrinkles his nose at where Dick is curled up on his bed, apparently, he fell asleep holding hands. He doesn’t like it when people touch him, so Jason rips his hand out of the loosened grasp and places it on his chest.

Unsurprisingly, the movement wakes Dick up. Jason watches the confusion on the other’s face before he glances up at Jason. A smile practically blossoms (and Jason is particularly annoyed by it today), as he surges up for a _hug._

Jason lets his brother get it out of his system for all of three seconds before he’s fighting against it. Dick is _never_ this nice to him, sure Dick is cordial when he has to be and he’s a tactile person, but this almost falls into _brother_ territory, and Jason doesn’t really need this.

Dick is rattling off. Jason watches his lips move at a rapid pace and decides that he will have to get good at reading lips. He glares at Dick who eventually catches the hint that Jason isn’t happy, and then his eyes go comically wide and he’s fumbling for the notepad on the table.

He resigns himself to this being his fate for the next couple of months until they determine whatever they will do with him. He can’t be a vigilante anymore, so really Bruce’s reason for keeping him around is gone. Dick is probably thrilled he gets to go back to being the golden child and the only child.

**How are you feeling?**

Jason fights back the first few responses, which are unduly angry, “annoyed.”

Dick pouts and raises the notepad again.

“I’m doped up on painkillers after being blown up, and I can’t hear, so I’ll leave that up to your deductive reasoning,” Jason snaps.

_Yeah._ He really wasn’t ready for company or conversation. On the bright side, it wasn’t Alfred, so he didn’t have to feel guilty about it. Dick looks hurt but thankfully his enthusiasm has died down.

**I’m sorry I wasn’t there.**

Jason curls his lips, “you’ve never been here before. Didn’t expect you to be.”

Dick physically recoils. He can see the shame settle on his shoulders. Jason groans at the surge of guilt in his chest, but he stamps it down. It’s the truth. Dick has never wanted him here, but now that he wasn’t a threat to Robin or Bruce’s favor, it was time to fawn over Jason.

**I’m here now.**

“I want to be alone,” Jason says, and even he can feel how raw his voice must’ve sounded.

Dick goes to speak but then cuts himself off. Jason closes his eyes, he doesn’t want people to tiptoe around him.

“Please leave.”

He feels the bed raise up, and after several seconds Jason opens his eyes to see that Dick had listened to him for once. Now that he’s alone, Jason takes stock of everything, there’s a cast on his arm and leg. So, Leslie has been here since the last time he woke up, he is sure they were just wrapped then. His chest is achy, and he has a constant feeling of wanting to cough. Part of his body feels like his skin is sticking together.

Everything lines up with what Bruce told him. The good thing is that there are no more medical surprises.

Jason looks towards the door, half expecting someone to burst through it. He glances towards the window and sees its night, so Batman was out on patrol and Alfred was likely helping him because he was down a partner. It wouldn’t surprise him if Dick joined him. Minutes passed of him staring out of the window and finally, the silence caught up with him.

There should be sound, and the silence was so overwhelming. Jason clapped his hands to his ears, he felt the blow but didn’t hear the silence cut out. He pressed his palms to his head harder until there was a lance of pain down his broken arm; he drops them to his side. The silence is still oppressive, and he flails out with his good hand and knocks several bottles of medicine off of the nightstand.

The clatter is in his head; he _knows_ what it should sound like, but it doesn’t make a sound. Jason feels his chest heaving and fights to get oxygen, the rapid expansion of his chest causes it to burn with pain.

He’s back under the rock. The dark of the room is too similar to the cave he thought he would die in. He’s going to die. His chest hurts too much. Everything hurts too much. He can’t breathe. He _can’t_ breathe. Jason is sure he’s screaming, but he can’t tell past the burn in his throat. He wishes he knows he is screaming, that someone was coming to find him. To save him from the pitiful death.

Light floods the room, it’s not light from the room, but it calms him down marginally. Light meant good things. Light meant Batman. Except it wasn’t his dad, but Alfred; and the butler was in a calm panic. Jason looked at him helplessly, and he felt a hand on his back. Alfred’s lips were moving, but he could only guess what the words meant.

Eventually, he gets the hint and matches his breathing to Alfred’s exaggerated breathing, and slowly the cave and the burning falls away. Enough that Jason can feel the stickiness of sweat and tears. He’s sure he’s torn stitches and jostled in injuries in all the wrong ways. Alfred keeps the hand on him, it’s a warm counterpoint to the burn of the rest of his body.

He can almost imagine Alfred’s whispered words of comfort. They’d be the same ones as always, the ones he used after nightmares and bad nights. The right combination that only Alfred had bothered to learn to comfort Jason. Despite that, he can’t help but want his dad, and he hates it.

The man almost let him die.

Jason sobs again. He keeps sobbing until he’s too exhausted to and then he falls asleep.

* * *

Bruce entering the room wakes him. Jason isn’t sure how it just does. Kind of like how he knew when Willis was drunk without having spoken to him. He’s not sure about that comparison and so he keeps himself small.

It doesn’t seem like Bruce has noticed that he’s awake, because he doesn’t stop and get awkward like he usually would. There a hesitation in his gait, and it takes a second for Jason to see bandages peeking out from the basketball shorts. He had gotten hurt again?

Despite the bandages, Bruce sits on the bed, right in the spot where Jason’s curve left room. Jason would usually make a snarky remark about Bruce making room for him wherever, but this feels different from all those lectures. A hand hits his shoulder, and Jason barely keeps himself from jumping at the sudden contact.

Alfred’s hand was warm whereas this one is just heavy. Jason isn’t sure what to do with that information, but he files it away.

He shifts just enough that it looks like he’s naturally moving in his sleep and it earns him a better view of Bruce’s face. There’s a dark bruise on his cheek and a split bottom lip. Both injuries are common enough, so Jason ignores them in favor of puzzling out what emotion Bruce was feeling. Like his hand, there was a heaviness in his gaze. A self-hatred that startles Jason, and he can’t fathom the reason. The anger and sadness he can understand, who wouldn’t be upset at seeing a ward heavily injured?

If it would be anyone, it would be Bruce. The man shies away from emotions like Jason does drugs.

Jason fights the negative thoughts away because he wants to see what Bruce is saying. Or try too. He can tell by the look on Bruce’s face that this is probably something he wants to _hear._ But he _can’t,_ because he was a dumbass and thought he could handle the Joker.

He misses most of the words, but what he gathers is son, fault, failure, and Jason almost wishes he stayed asleep or kept his eyes closed because there’s only so many ways he can take those words and make it not seem like Bruce said this was his fault. It was, but he didn’t think Bruce would blame the entire thing on him.

Bruce leaves shortly after that, having said his piece. Jason slowly twists, so he’s on his back and staring up at the ceiling.

He knows he won’t be able to go back to sleep, but he knows he has to do something. Otherwise, he’ll have a repeat of earlier, except he can’t move enough to do anything. Jason sighs and turns back onto his side. Sleep would bring him nightmares, staying awake would bring him a panic attack.

His door opens again, and Jason pretends to sleep. Dick enters, and Jason can tell he’s moving to make no sound. He barely keeps himself from snorting. The bed sinks down behind him. For a second Jason stills, but he feels Dick’s back press into him. It makes his injuries sting, but the feel of another person is comforting. He doesn’t feel like he’s alone.

He doesn’t fall asleep; his mind is looping Bruce’s words. Dick’s presence lulls him into a trance. At least he didn’t have another panic attack.

* * *

Jason doesn’t react to Dick’s presence in the morning. Alfred enters with breakfast, it’s all food that’s easy to digest. There are sliced green apples, and Jason eyes them, it’s one of his favorite snacks. The tray is set on his lap gingerly. He nibbles on the apples as Alfred prepares an assortment of medication. Jason knows enough that Alfred is sorting the ones he has to take from the painkillers.

He’s half tempted to take the painkillers just so he can sleep. Except it feels too much like he is abusing them. Despite the range of his injuries, he’s not in a lot of pain.

Once he finishes the apples, Alfred hands him the pills and a glass of water. Jason tosses them back. Dick looks surprised until he sees the other pill set aside.

Alfred grabs the pad and scrawls in neat cursive **Dr. Thompkins is stopping by today.**

“Can I see her alone?” Jason asks.

**Of course.** Alfred writes.

Jason knows Bruce. He knows he can’t deal with the overbearing attitude now. He needs to figure out what’s best for him and not what Bruce thinks is best. When he’s unconscious, it doesn’t matter as much. Now he has to prepare himself for when Bruce throws him out on the street since he won’t be able to do much.

Alfred leaves him alone after that. Surprisingly Dick isn’t pushing like he usually does, Jason is appreciative of that fact. Still, he doesn’t know how to handle Dick when he’s like this. Several minutes pass and Jason starts getting irritated again. Dick should be chattering about mundane things and not be sitting in this maudlin looking silence.

Dick glances at him. Jason raises an eyebrow and waits as Dick grabs the pad. The pen hovers over the page. Then he sets it down.

“What?” Jason snaps.

There’s a second of shock but Dick grabs the pen, **how are you feeling?**

That isn’t what he was going to ask, Jason knows.

“Fine.”

Dick bites the inside of his lip and writes, **is it true? Can you not hear anything?**

Jason doesn’t know why that question hurts, he knows that he’ll be asked that now for the rest of his life, “nothing.”

There’s a second, enough of a pause for Jason to grab the pad and toss it to the other side of the room, “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

Dick’s mouth curves into a frown but strangely he doesn’t move to grab the pad. He just sits there. Jason decides he’d rather sleep so he carefully slides down and closes his eyes. The bed slowly raises and Jason guesses Dick is leaving him alone. This time he falls asleep before the silence can get to him.

* * *

Someone prods at his shoulder, and Jason sits up in alarm. After he chases away the lingering parts of his dream: smoke, darkness, and silence, he realizes there’s no threat in the room. Instead, it’s Dr. Thompkins who had apparently backed away to avoid Jason’s flailing. It wasn’t the worst choice, he could only imagine the pain he would have caused himself striking something with his damaged hand.

Dr. Thompkins smiles at him and moves closer again. She has a tablet and scribbles something on the screen and turns it towards him.

**Your injuries are healing nicely. There doesn’t look to be an infection setting in. You’ll have to do several months of PT, and you should be able to start that in the next three weeks.**

Jason nods. He knew that was coming, although he doesn’t know how he’ll manage even getting to PT. Moving beyond the bed sounds exhausting, no matter how much he wants to move from it.

The tablet is turned around, and Jason waits patiently for the doctor to finish writing, **there doesn’t appear to be severe head trauma, the concussion you had has seemed to have mostly vanished.**

There wasn’t any head trauma? That doesn’t explain why he’s suddenly deaf.

Again Dr. Thompkin flips the tablet around and writes. **The hearing loss isn’t caused by trauma to the brain, but rather the inner ear. It’s likely it’s not 100 percent hearing loss, and some will return as the swelling and your body’s immune response calms down.**

“But not all of it?” Jason asks.

She pauses and shakes her head and then she’s scribbling something on the tablet, **between natural healing and a new trial drug designed for hearing loss in veterans, we can restore your hearing to about 70 percent.**

Jason frowns, that’s still a lot he won’t be able to hear. It’s slightly relieving that he isn’t completely deaf, but there’s a lot of conditions for that to be the case. He blinks when the tablet is once again shown to him.

**If medication and time don’t fix it, there’s always cochlear implants. We can start that process now if you prefer.**

“Will that restore my hearing?”

Dr. Thompkin shakes her head, **not completely, but it’ll certainly be more effective than a hearing aid and I’m sure with proper training and experience you could continue your life with very little change.**

Jason tilts his head. He’s sure that she means he won’t have to go to a school for the deaf or have to be completely reliant on sign language or reading lips, but he can’t help but hope she means that he could go back to being a vigilante. Bruce wouldn’t allow it, but he’s probably going to be 18 by the time he’s healed enough to rough up Gotham’s worse.

The idea is more appealing that he thought it would be.

“Okay,” he says.

Dr. Thompkins seems surprised, **alright, I’ll start working to get that cleared. You’ll have to go to a professional audiologist. Alfred will be given a list and I’ll also set you up with orthopedics and a PT clinic.**

Jason inclines his head, “thank you.”

Bruce won’t kick him out if there’s a chance he’ll still be useful.

**How are you feeling otherwise?**

“Not in pain,” Jason answers, “not overly so. Less than I would think.”

Doctor Thompkins nods, **then I’ll keep you on the same dose of painkiller. We had it on an IV line while you were unconscious.**

Jason shrugs. He’s not curious to find out how much pain he should be in, despite having to use painkillers to achieve the effect.

There’s a moment where nothing happens and then Doctor Thompkins is writing in slow strokes. Jason tilts his head in curiosity. He sure it’s not going to be something he likes, otherwise, she wouldn’t be delaying this.

**I also recommend you going to see a therapist. You’ve undergone a great trauma and life-changing circumstance.**

He immediately shakes his head. A therapist is going to want him to talk and he doesn’t want to dig at old wounds. He’s sure they’ll get to them, even if they’re talking about how he needs to cope with being blown up. Jason doesn’t need to pay someone to tell him how badly he fucked up, he knows that well enough and Bruce is only being generous with him since he did almost die.

Doctor Thompkins is giving him a long look, **please consider it. You may think you don’t need one, but this isn’t something you can just ignore. It won’t go away, you’ll never have your hearing back completely.**

“I’ll handle it,” Jason says roughly.

He’s glad that the doctor takes that as the dismissal that he wants it to be. Although, now he doesn’t have much of an excuse to deny company. Hopefully, Dick gets the hint and he already knows Alfred is good about giving him his privacy.

Several minutes pass by and Jason, relieved that he’s alone, finally manages to endure the slight over twisting he must do to reach his tablet on the bottom shelf of his nightstand. He blows air through his mouth to help with the increasing pain, but finally, he grabs the device and ungracefully flops backward.

Tablet safely in hand and fully charged, Jason moves the cord, so it’s securely pinned in the drawer of his nightstand, he doesn’t want to twist more than he has to, he opens it up to the news. The headline nearly causes him to throw it across the room.

**JOKER CLAIMS HE KILLED ROBIN?**

The next one isn’t much better.

**JOKER ON A RAMPAGE, BATMAN DOES NOTHING**

Perhaps the third is the worse

**COMMISSIONER** **GORDON CONFIRMS ROBIN’S DEATH**

It isn’t true. Jason thinks it could be a ploy by Batman to keep Joker away. They’ve always been suspicious of Joker having their secret identities. Beyond that Jason can’t believe that the clown is running loose in Gotham. Batman hasn’t done anything to him. The rest of the arrest reports detail low-level thieves and gangsters being taken out by Batman. Nightwing is also circling the city.

Jason tosses his tablet to the other side of the bed and slides down to cover himself with blankets. He knew it was coming, he _physically_ couldn’t be Robin for the time being, but he thought Bruce would have the balls to tell him that news himself.

Of course, also thinks Jason is a failure. He won’t even avenge him by going after the Joker.

He stares into the darkness of the blankets before he closes his eyes and prays that this is just a bad dream.

* * *

It isn’t a bad dream.

It has officially been six weeks since “Robin died” and “Jason Todd got into a car accident.” In that time, he’s seen Bruce maybe three times in person, when Bruce wanted to be seen by him. Dick adopts the more reasonable visitation schedule of once every other day, mostly because after the first week Jason would pull back into himself.

It’s not his fault Dick is the golden boy, and Bruce can’t be bothered to spend time with his _son_ who almost _died_. Maybe that’s what they’ll put on the epitaph.

_The son who finally died_.

He’s seen Alfred more than either Dick or Bruce. Those visits have been cordial and necessary, but Jason ignored the old man’s attempts at comfort. Despite how grateful he was to wake up and find several books on sign language on his nightstand. Thankfully this is something he can do, the signs are clumsy because of the cast, but now that it’s off he’s starting to get a fluidity to the movements.

His leg still has a week and a half before his orthopedist will even think about removing the cast.

There is also the small matter of him starting clinic PT today over the at-home mobility exercises and restrictions, and once again Bruce is mysteriously absent from a “milestone in his recovery.” He has Dick, but that’s only because Alfred couldn’t drive him today.

Dick has been awkward to be around. If Jason is honest with himself, it’s always been awkward between them the golden boy and the street rat. There’s really no competition, but they made it one. Now Dick is trying to be brotherly, and it’s weirding Jason out.

Although, Dick is trying to learn sign language. Jason must give him points for trying. Bruce can go fuck himself. Last week was the first time that Batman went after the Joker. Joker got away and Bruce needed seven stitches on his arm and ointment for an acid burn.

Jason learned _that_ from a tabloid report and confirmed it with Alfred.

They arrive at the clinic, and Jason dips his head on the off chance there’s a reporter around. Most of them respect Bruce’s request that his family not be targeted during this time, but that doesn’t stop them from an accidental meeting. He also thinks it makes it less embarrassing to be wheeled in by Dick.

If he had strength in both his arms, he’d push himself and feel less embarrassed about the entire thing. He had turned down a motorized wheelchair because really, he would only need it for a couple months so why waste the money?

Granted Bruce had more than any human could spend in a lifetime, but it was the principle of the matter. He also wasn’t keen on taking handouts from Bruce.

The receptionist greets them.

“Jason Todd, I have an appointment with Alex Syncy,” he smiles up at her.

God damn Bruce and his stupid rules of keeping up personas.

She types something and then smiles back at them. Her lips move, and Jason doesn’t catch any of what she says, but he’s pretty sure that it’s to wait. If it was anything else Dick would take care of it for him. He just hopes that the physical therapist knows that he’s deaf.

The wait is only fifteen minutes before he’s called back. Alex is lanky but he offers Jason a kind smile as he’s wheeled back.

Part of him enjoys the fact that Dick gets to sit out in the waiting room for the duration of the appointment.

He’s taken to a room off to the side of the main gym area. There’s a woman sitting at a table and she waves at him.

_Hello,_ she signs, _I am E-M-I-L-Y S-A-N-T-O-S._

Jason waves, _J-A-S-O-N T-O-D-D._

_I am interrupting._

_Yes._

Jason waits for a second, then adds _I am signing novice._

She nods, _let me know. When you don’t understand._

He’s sure that’s going to be a lot of the time, but thankfully this is a kinetic thing rather than a word thing. So Jason is fairly confident he’ll figure it out.

* * *

Things improve for a time. Physical therapy is progressing slowly, but Jason finds doing the exercises tend to drown out his silent world. Doctor Thompkins was right about some of his hearing being restored over time, but it’s only enough to acknowledge sound rather than understand anything coming from it.

The audiologist wants to give it a few more months before performing the surgery for the implant. He claims its to make sure Jason doesn’t lose too much progress on his therapy, which he guesses makes sense since he just started reusing his leg.

Bruce has visited more, he doesn’t spend more time but at least Jason doesn’t go weeks without seeing him. Truthfully, he could do without the half-assed visits. He knows Bruce can’t stand to look at his failure for long. Jason doesn’t care either, he stopped caring about what the man thought when he refused to actively seek retribution.

With all things in his life, Jason should have known that the dam was about to break.

It starts with Dick looking guilty. Not uncommon since Jason was injured, but less so in the months of recovery. Jason would almost venture to say they were friends, a far cry from the brotherhood Dick wants, but at least he’s kept his word.

He doesn’t ask. Eventually, Dick will tell him what’s wrong. Jason continues to rebuild the strength in his leg.

Then Bruce’s visits drop off. He thought they were nonexistent before, but he’s lucky now if he can catch a _glimpse_ of the man in the hallways. He knows he’s on the planet because Alfred will mutter about dangerous stunts that the two of them pull.

Dick leaves for Bludhaven, or rather he stops coming over to the manor every spare moment he gets and Nightwing starts patrolling the streets again. Jason gets cleared to use his arm for more than just PT, his leg still has a while longer to go.

It’s Alfred that finally tips him off that the _entire_ family is hiding something from him. Jason is mobile now, so long as he has a cane to support him. He tells Alfred he doesn’t need the cane, but Jason could never say no to Alfred’s battering logic. So, they compromised on the duration he must use the walking aid. He knows the fear that soon as he has no visible disability that he’ll want to be in the cave.

Of course, he puts that thought on the backburner the second he gets the message letting him know that insurance has processed his claim and approved the implants. They aren’t covering a lot of it, but they already knew that was the case. Bruce will pick up the rest. He’s adapted well to living in a world with sound, and if he needed to he could probably continue his life completely deaf, but part of him wants to go back out on the streets again.

The day he gets the implants, Bruce is there. He looks moderately ashamed.

“Oh, so now that I’m getting _fixed,_ ” Jason spat the word, “you want to spend time with me?”

_J-A-S-O-N,_ Bruce is still clumsy with signs, _it’s not like that._

He huffs and turns his head, “isn’t it?”

Bruce probably signs something, but Jason isn’t looking. Then Bruce gives in and moves into Jason’s line of sight.

_No._

This is not the conversation he needs right now, “yeah? Well, you never proved otherwise.”

Jason closes his eyes effectively ending the conversation. Bruce can stuff his parental concern wherever he stuffed it the first-time during Jason’s recovery. He knows Bruce and Dick have fought about it, he’s gotten better at lip reading and he’s been in the room at the start of the argument.

Someone jostles his shoulder, he looks up. It’s the nurse, _ready, J-A-S-O-N?_

“Yes.”

* * *

The implants were harder to get used to than just being deaf was. Dick works with him the most on learning how to interpret the signals. Jason grudgingly admits 10 months after the Incident he and Dick are more like brothers.

Bruce, naturally, also picks this time to start coming around. He starts treating him like when he was Robin.

Jason, naturally, doesn’t let this fact go.

“Now that I can hear again, I’m worth being around?” Jason spat.

_I told you,_ Bruce signs quickly, _not like that._

“For fuck sake, Bruce explain yourself!” Jason demands

_I_ there’s no following sign.

“You can’t, you can’t break out of your head to even comfort me. You’d rather not be seen as vulnerable and let me think I’m only worth your attention when I have all five senses,” Jason spins and storms off.

It’s not their worst fight. Bruce gets better after that. He doesn’t fully explain what’s his thoughts were, but maybe he realized what an ass he was. Jason doubts it. He’s probably just happy they’re reaching a point where they don’t have to sign as much anymore.

* * *

Eighteen months after the Incident, Jason finally realizes what has been hidden from him.

“This is Tim Drake,” Bruce says.

“Who the hell is Tim Drake?” Jason asks.

Dick goes tense as he enters the living room, Alfred is mysteriously absent. Jason frowns. The kid is probably fourteen, if that, and he’s got black hair and blue eyes. Jason already knows the kid has been adopted, officially or not. Then he spots the bruises creeping out from the sleeves of Tim’s polo. They’re handprints.

For a second, he thinks maybe this kid was abused, and then he thinks harder. None of his family would leave a kid in that situation for any length of time, and clearly there’s history here he wasn’t a part of. There’s a grief in the kid’s eyes that he doesn’t want to make worse, and then he knows.

This kid was Robin.

A Robin.

His replacement.

He’s been replaced for fifteen months, he thinks about when Bruce fully avoided him and everyone’s weird behavior, and no one bothered to tell him. Not his father. Not his brother. Not Alfred.

“Fuck you,” he spits.

“Jason-” it comes from behind him so it’s probably Dick but he hasn’t quite got the hang of voice identification yet.

“No,” Jason growls, “you replaced me! You replaced me and didn’t fucking tell me!”

“Jason-” Bruce begins.

“That’s why you fucking avoided me!” Jason can’t stop his voice rising, “because you were training your new Robin and didn’t want to let slip.”

“Please let me-”

Jason surges two paces, “let you explain? You had fifteen god damn months. At any time you could have. Fuck you.”

“I didn’t want to put that pressure on you!” Bruce yells.

“I already knew I wasn’t going to be Robin anymore,” Jason feels a twinge in his leg as he slides into a defensive stance, “I knew that the second I realized I lost my hearing!”

Dick moves behind him, just in his peripheral vision.

“I knew you weren’t going to let me back in the field until I adapted!” Jason’s throat is stinging, “I thought that maybe, you were holding out hope that I could come back. That maybe you thought once I got the implants and healed, that you would make me your partner again.”

He dances away from the hand that Dick tries to put on his shoulder.

“But instead you were training my replacement. You didn’t have the balls to tell me in person! And what? You thought that I was going to accept this?”

“Batman needs a Robin!” Tim speaks up suddenly.

Jason curls his lips at the kid, “I was still his Robin. _You_ stole the title. You’re nothing but a replacement!”

Tim recoils.

Jason scowls at Bruce. There’s a crack in the mask.

“I can’t lose you, Jason,” Bruce says softly, “I almost did.”

“No,” Jason storms past the man, “you did lose me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write this story for a while and I finally managed to do it. I dunno, let me know what you all think in the comments below, and I will see you next time!


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